Chapter 4 - THE HOSPITAL THAT NEVER CLOSED
Saint Catherine's was located three hours outside New York.
I wanted to drive there immediately.
I wanted to tear down every locked door.
I wanted the people who threatened Isabella to understand exactly who they were dealing with.
Then I remembered her video.
Don't hurt anyone over this.
So I did something the old Dante Moretti would've considered weakness.
I called the authorities.
Rebecca arranged for investigators to review the records and requested an emergency welfare check through the proper channels.
I gave them everything.
The financial statements.
The photographs.
The threatening messages.
Even the records that might expose criminal activity inside my own organization.
Gabriel stared at me.
"Boss, some of those documents could implicate us."
"I know."
"Then why hand them over?"
I looked toward Isabella's photograph.
"Because my wife is worth more than the empire."
He didn't answer.
For years, I'd told my men that the family came first.
Then I'd behaved as though the organization mattered more than the woman who built my home.
The contradiction made me sick.
By evening, investigators had located Saint Catherine's.
The facility operated under another name.
It appeared to provide legitimate medical care to some residents.
But several patients had unusual identity records.
And some family contact restrictions raised serious concerns.
One patient was listed as Lucia Romano.
She was alive.
Thirty-four years old.
Receiving treatment for a neurological condition.
Isabella's sister.
My knees nearly gave way.
Then Rebecca called again.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Lucia's care was paid for through the old Moretti family trust."
I stared.
"The one that transferred eighteen million?"
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"And Isabella?"
"We have reason to believe she visited the facility recently. But she isn't there now."
I closed my eyes.
Relief and fear collided inside me.
Lucia was alive.
Isabella had found her.
But where had my wife gone?
That night, I returned to our bedroom.
The ring still lay where she'd left it.
I'd removed the unloaded gun and placed it in secure storage.
I couldn't bear looking at it beside her wedding ring.
The symbolism was too cruel.
Eleven years ago, I'd given Isabella that weapon and told her no one would ever make her helpless again.
Now she'd left it behind.
She didn't want my protection.
She wanted freedom from the danger my life had brought to her door.
I picked up her ring.
The inside was engraved:
D + I.
FOREVER, BY CHOICE.
I remembered the day we chose those words.
Isabella had insisted on them.
"Love isn't ownership, Dante," she'd told me.
"It only means something when someone stays because they want to."
I'd laughed.
Told her she'd never leave.
God, how arrogant I'd been.
Then my phone rang.
Valentina.
I stared at her name.
For nine months, I'd answered every call.
Now I let it ring.
A message followed.
"Dante, my father says you need to stop looking into Saint Catherine's."
Another message arrived.
"Please. He knows where Isabella is."
I called immediately.
Valentina answered, crying.
"Dante?"
"Tell me where my wife is."
She hesitated.
Then whispered something I would never forget.
"My father didn't hire me just to become your mistress."
May you like
My blood turned cold.
"He hired me to keep you away from Isabella while she searched for Lucia."
